


Toast

by Buttsuoka_Rin



Series: Make It Three [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Feeding, Lazy Sunday Breakfast in bed, M/M, Morning After, Multi, With a sexy twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttsuoka_Rin/pseuds/Buttsuoka_Rin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do Greg and John convince Sherlock to eat breakfast? By being a pair of teases of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toast

**Author's Note:**

> Written in about tenty minutes and not overlooked by a beta, so sorry for any big mistakes.

Greg was sitting up in bed, newspaper open on the sports section in one hand, the other carding through jet black curls. It was a slow and late Sunday morning and John was, as usual on the weekends, the first one up to make breakfast. The smell of coffee and slightly overdone toast wafted up the stairs, and Sherlock mumbled something in French as he batted away Lestrade's hand.

"Morning sunshine." Sherlock glared at the older man when he greeted him, sitting up fully and rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah, you had a bit much to drink last night."

"I don't drink…" The detective groaned when the bedroom door squeaked open, flopping down onto his front and burying his face into his pillow.

"Apparently you do. And," John nudged the door shut with his foot and set the tray down on the bed by Greg's feet, "You snore when you're drunk."

"Mmf dmmf nuh snumf!"

"Sherlock, we can't understand you if you mutter into your pillow." Greg said, sharing a brief look of amusement with John. Sherlock sat up again with another groan and turned to look at John. 

"I said I do not snore... Is that coffee?"

John chuckled and gave both of his lovers a kiss. He passed Sherlock one cup of coffee - after getting him to sit upright - and handed Greg the other, before budging the DI over and settling beside him. Greg was sandwiched between the two men but he wasn't going to complain; they always managed to fit the three of them on the double bed anyway.  
Sherlock drank in silence, seemingly too hungover to join in on the quiet chit-chat between Greg and John about the Yard.

He didn't snap out of his late morning daydream until Greg waved a slice of buttered toast in front of his face. Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "You expect me to eat this?"

"Yes." 

"No."

Lestrade, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighed. "Don't be difficult. We all agreed that you would eat breakfast on two conditions: If you haven't eaten anything the night before, or if you have a hangover. Seeing as the latter clearly applies, you will eat."

"Dear god, John has brainwashed you."

"What?" John clipped, tilting his head.

"Breakfast being the most important meal of the day, I'm a doctor, et cetera." Sherlock turned his nose up at the toast and closed his mouth.

"John hasn't brainwa-"

"It's okay Greg. I'll handle this." John caught the DI's eye with a little smirk, setting his tea aside. "Switch places with me."

From where he was sulking, Sherlock looked over at his two older lovers as they swapped places, John now in the middle. Turning his attention fully to the detective, John put on his serious face.

"Eat."

"No."

"Sherlock."

"No!"

"Fine! You leave me no choice."

"…What do you mean?" But John didn't reply. Instead, he turned and whispered something to Greg, who grinned wickedly and handed John the slice of toast. "John! What are you up to?" 

"If you won't eat it yourself," John moved so quickly that in a flash he was astride Sherlock's lap, straddling him, "then I will feed you."

Widening his eyes, the detective looked over at Greg, then back to John, who was inching closer. 

"John-"

"Hush." The doctor grinned and put his finger over Sherlock's lips. He was going to get Sherlock to eat, and if that meant pursuing so in a sexual way, well…  
Tearing off a small triangle of the toast, John slipped it in between Sherlock's lips. Sherlock didn't try to spit it out, still a bit stunned at John's suddenness this early in the morning. Leaning down, John bit down on half of the little slice so his lips were right against Sherlock's. The only thing the detective could do was eat the half in his own mouth.

"Very good, John. And I think we've found another little kink of Sherlock's. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

The glare Sherlock shot Greg then would have been absolutely murderous if not for his very apparent arousal; pupil-blown eyes and a very red face. 

"I think so, Greg. You feed him too." Sharing a smirk with John, the DI scooped up some of the butter from another slice of bread and held his finger against Sherlock's lips. The younger man opened them willingly and sucked the butter off. 

He met Greg's eyes and whimpered when both men suddenly stopped paying attention to him - John sliding off his lap and Greg pulling away.

"This is torture!" There was anything but annoyance in his voice, and his pajama bottoms looked very uncomfortably tight.

"Well," John took Greg's finger and licked the butter off his fingertip by himself, "if you're good…"

"Then we might take care of that." Greg's eyes travelled down to Sherlock's very prominent erection. 

"But you have to eat your breakfast first." To make a further point, John took Greg's finger right into his mouth and sucked down hard.

Neither man had ever seen Sherlock Holmes eat so fast in their lives.


End file.
